


Compliance

by HaleysHeaven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Slash, Psychological Torture, Slash, The timeline is so messed up, Torture, pre-serum steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaleysHeaven/pseuds/HaleysHeaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Commander. My orders?” The Winter Soldier asked.</p><p>“Clean out,” the Commander replied. “I go in and you cover the exits. No survivors.”</p><p>-</p><p>What if the Winter Soldier had had a partner?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Commander

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a Tumblr post I saw and I loved it so much I decided to write something for it.

Sitting alone in the dim dance hall Peggy watched the women and men swirl around the dance floor, soft laughter and gentle music enticing the couples to dance. 

For a moment the quiet and affectionate atmosphere fooled her into forgetting why she was here. Tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed against the sudden feeling of cotton. 

_“A week. Next Saturday at the Stork Club.”_

She stood then, not wanting to be in the club any longer. It was a foolish thought anyways, but after everything she had been pulled here, a desperate wish for him to be here, though she knew that was impossible. 

_“8 o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late.”_

He was late. 

Peggy left. 

~^~ 

Two motorcycles sped down the road, weaving in and out of cars. One would signal to the other and they would make a turn, the second man clearly following the orders of the first. 

A mile from their destination they stopped the bikes. One man grabbed a black case and a mask. He tied the mask to his face, covering his nose and mouth and pulled goggles over his face. 

The second man took out an assortment of artillery, strapping guns to his legs and semi-automatic was strapped across his back. 

The first man opened the case and began to assemble the sniper rifle inside. It took him only a minute to do while the second man covered his face with his own mask and helmet. 

“Commander. My orders?” The Winter Soldier asked. 

“Clean out,” the Commander replied. “I go in and you cover the exits. No survivors.” 

They walked silently through the trees, hiding their presence from any security cameras that could be hidden around. No one had been sent to scout the mission beforehand so neither man knew the security measures, but they did know that whatever they were they could easily be outmaneuvered. 

“Wait here,” the Commander ordered, pointing into a tree overlooking the lab that was now less than 500 feet away. The Soldier nodded and slung the rifle to his back, swiftly and silently scaling the tree until he found a comfortable perch. 

The Commander nodded and made his way down to the front gates. 

The building wasn’t the largest they had been sent to attack and it certainly wasn’t the most secure. Either they were sure of their hidden location or nothing important was being held here. The Commander didn’t dwell on the reasons for the lack of security, it wasn’t his job to worry about things like that. 

The two security guards at the gate were idly chatting and the Commander took them out with precision before they had even noticed him. 

The Commander climbed over the gates as the alarm started to sound. He didn’t react to the discovery of his presence, easily taking out the guards that came to meet him. He didn’t use that many bullets for each guard, something that rankled him on each mission. He wondered why he wasn’t as merciless as his Soldier when it came to Clean Outs, but he shoved that aside and focused on the mission. 

He made his way through the building, planting explosives every few hundred few and tuning out the begging of the SHIELD agents and scientists who thought they could bargain with him for their lives, it was almost laughable. 

He reached the top floor and planted the last explosive. Everyone in the building was dead, or at least on their way so he vaulted out of the window, landing neatly on his feet. 

He calmly walked away from the building, shoulder his gun and meeting the Soldier at the bottom his sniper perch. The Commander nodded to the Soldier and he jumped down, landing gracefully next to him with his weapon stowed.

The Commander took out his charge and triggered it. The two men watched the building come tumbling down in a controlled explosion for a moment before turning away. 

The Commander connected to his superior through the communicators in their ears and relayed the status of the mission, brusque orders followed. They were to continue travelling, not drawing much attention and continuing to check in every 24 hours. 

“Thirty days until pick-up.” The line went dead after that. “

One month. Let’s keep going. New orders come in soon,” the Commander informed his Soldier. 

“Yes sir,” the Soldier replied, swinging onto his motorcycle.

~^~ 

“Fuck you,” Steve spat, lashing out and hitting someone square in the jaw. 

“Submit,” someone growled. 

“No.” 

Steve yanked his arms free and fought. There were men pressing in on all sides, but Steve was faster and stronger than all of them. 

One man advanced and his leg shout out, kicking the man hard enough that he slammed into the wall opposite with a satisfying sound and a cry of pain. Steve knew he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. 

Another man was out of the fight after a harsh blow to the head, crumbling at Steve’s feet. Steve, half-crazed, missed his shield. It would have made this a lot easier for him. But then slow measured steps approached and Steve froze. 

“No, no, no,” Steve muttered, throwing himself into the fight. He was so close to escape. 

“Commander,” a deep voice rumbled over the din of the fighting. 

That voice was enough to have Steve trip up and the men pounced, pinning him to the floor even as he struggled and struck out with his elbows and feet. 

“I’m a Captain,” Steve said after he determined his escape would be impossible. 

“Not anymore,” the reply came as boots entered his vision. 

“I’m still unclear why I’ve been demoted,” Steve shot back.

The chuckle surprised Steve and he was more on edge because of it. This man never laughed, in fact this might have been the most he had ever said to Steve in the past few years. At least Steve thought it had been a few years, he didn’t know and he didn’t really care either.

"You should show most respect for your superiors,” the man said in a light tone. 

Steve clenched his jaw and didn’t reply. Whatever happened next, continuing to goad this man would only mean bad things for Steve. 

“You know what happens next.”

Steve began to struggle again at that. He couldn’t go back. 

There were grunts and then added weight pressed him further into the floor and Steve growled. 

“Sedate him. It will be easier to get him prepped,” another voice called out. 

Steve wanted to fight. To get up and get our or die trying, but he couldn’t. He was stuck at their mercy for the rest of his long, long life.


	2. Cunning Like a Fox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone had respected the man, but a few wondered for his motivations. He was not someone who was traumatized by his past to the point that any sort of revenge would satisfy them. He was not someone with an inherent hate for humanity. He was even someone who took pleasure in murder and mayhem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have angst for you all and some sick OC development.
> 
> Posting might be regular, but that depends on how in the mood I'm in. I do know the generally plot of this story, but I have no idea how long that could take (10,000-50,000 words, who knows?).  
> Enjoy!  
> <3 Page

It took Hydra nine years, bordering on ten, to reform as a weak operation hidden somewhere in the mountains of Germany.

Those who had survived to not be captured by SHIELD had been eager to join and crush the new Hydra adversary. These men and women were led by Ardal Fuchs.

Ardal Fuchs is a man of intimidating stature. Tall and broad he towered over most men at six foot eight and yet he was often silent. It was something that added to the sense of wariness and dread many felt around him because one knew he was always assessing the room and the people around him. It felt as if in one gaze he would know your worth and your abilities and if they were useful to him you were in the clear, for now.

The qualities had determined his future when he had joined Hydra. There was no doubt that he was physically capable to join, but more than a few had questioned his intelligence. They had been in for a surprise when he had given them the upper hand in a few keys battles with his military strategy.

After proving his worth, Ardal had moved swiftly through the ranks to the point where had routinely interacted with the Red Skull and Arnim Zola.

Everyone had respected the man, but a few wondered for his motivations. He was not someone who was traumatized by his past to the point that any sort of revenge would satisfy them. He was not someone with an inherent hate for humanity. He was even someone who took pleasure in murder and mayhem. No, Ardal Fuchs believed in the founding principal of Hydra: the idea that humanity cannot be trusted to control its freedom.

Ardal had been a passive observer to the cruelties people inflicted on others when they had the freedom to do as they wish. He had seen countries disenfranchise their people when they had control. He was not naive to these simple facts.

After Hydra’s destruction by SHIELD it had been easy for him to move back into the shadows, waiting for his next call to action.

It came within a few years when another former Hydra agent reached out to rebuild the organization. Arnim Zola told him in length what he had been able to done inside of SHIELD and what he planned to do by rebuilding Hydra.

Fuchs had immediately agreed and given his own suggestions of people to reach out to. This went on for a few years as both men gain followers in and outside of SHIELD.

It was one day in late April 1951 when Fuchs proposed something to Doctor Zola: the recovery of Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes.

Zola had been hesitant simply because of the risk it would put the new Hydra organization, but Fuchs had been insistent, telling the genetics scientist that they could become the perfect weapon for their side.

Zola agreed and the recovery missions began.

~^~

“We’ve got him,” one man reported back to Arnim Zola and Ardal Fuchs. Who stood overseeing the recovery from their plane.

“Can he be moved without disturbance to his current state?” Fuchs asked.

“Most likely. Some precautions can be put into place the moment he reaches the surface, but even if he began to wake it would take him hours, maybe even days to fully wake,” Zola replied smoothly, already considering the different drugs he had brought to keep the Captain subdued.

“Good,” Fuchs said.

Zola nodded and left to gather the equipment needed, leaving Fuchs to dole out the orders.

The recovery was simple if not more taxing than the retrieval of Barnes, only because of the amount of shrapnel and debris that they had to sort through.

The Captain was encased in ice and for a moment Fuchs wondered at the abilities of the serum. In the six years he had been in the ice, he had not aged a day. No the Captain still looked barely twenty-five and the only evidence that he was anything but sleeping was the blue hue of his lips and fingers.

“Zola,” Fuchs barked, beckoning him over.

Zola quietly examined Rogers, a simple examination really. A more through one could be done back at the Hydra labs.

“We must hurry. What I have will not be sufficient to keep him under for long. It appears as though his body retreated into hibernation because of the freezing temperatures and now that he is being exposed to warmer temperatures he will no doubt begin to wake. I have no gauge of how long that could take. It could be anywhere from a day to months, maybe even a few years.”

Fuchs nodded, leaving Zola to attend to the Captain and giving out new orders. Half the men would stay behind to collect the remnants of the plane while the rest would accompany them back to Germany.

Ardal Fuchs observed the scene before him with a callous grin. Hydra was rising anew and he would be at the forefront of that movement.

~^~

The memories would come back in flashes. Debilitating, often rendering him unconscious and he relived some moment from his past, or at least he assumed they were moments from his past he had no real way of knowing. Memories weren't important to the Commander, but to the other man they were integral. 

A young woman standing over him with a worried look on her face as she stroked his forehead. A young boy smiling at him and hugging him.

Never a full memory. He could never get the names of the people or places he saw. Their words always garbled and hard to understand even though he could see their mouths moving.

The same young boy grew. Handsome now, full of confidence and compassion. Teasing, but kind.

The memories drew the Commander in and he was helpless to resist them.

Outside the Commander's mind the doctor scrambled to try and erase the man’s memory, to keep him from regressing to his former self.

“Full wipe,” someone suggested.

“Full wipe resets the programming and the compulsion,” another person argued.

“What else can we do? If this keeps going he’ll remember and it’ll be another escape attempt. This is the third regression in less than two months. Fuchs will have our heads,” the first voice snapped.

“That’ll happen either way,” a third voice snapped. “He is never happy to hear that his toy is broken.”

“Neither are we! We work our asses off to keep him from regressing, but it doesn’t stick. Not like it did with the Soldier. He is stronger.”

“Stronger? No. Stubborn as a mule? Yes,” Fuchs remarked from the door with a slight smirk.

The man didn't mind the disdain these three clearly felt for him, it was refreshing to hear someone speak out against him. That hadn't happened in years, not since Zola's death.

Immediately the scientists and the doctors fell silent. They knew that Fuchs had heard enough to warrant their removal, but they didn’t dare say anything to make it worse.

“Full wipe will have to do. The command words stay the same, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, begin immediately. We need him back at the end of the month.” Ardal left the room without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The German meaning of Ardal Fuchs is intelligent, cunning fox.


	3. Is it Too Late to Come Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Commander and the Soldier had been working together up until six months ago, could that have a connection to the relapses?” Fuchs asked.
> 
> The two doctors frowned and looked down at the Winter Soldier who was staring blankly ahead and listening to the nurses and agents on the floor.
> 
> “It’s a possibility, but a small one,” Adrian said, with a look of doubt on his face.
> 
> “I can’t honestly say it wouldn’t have some affect. The way we trained them made them used to consistency and habits, if they had been around each other long enough they could have become dependent on the other’s presence so much so that it affects them this way. But we just don’t know enough yet,” Melanie conceded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the Florence and the Machine song "Long & Lost"

The screaming was distant, far away. In some abstract way Bucky knew it was him that was screaming, but he couldn’t feel it or hear it, the only thing that he understood at the moment was the pain.

He was receding into the back of his consciousness. He was losing bits and pieces even as he tried to cling on, desperate to keep some part of who he was. It was a lost cause, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight for it.

He writhed and thrashed, trying to get away from whatever was stealing his memories and replacing it with pain, but he couldn’t he was stuck and hopeless.

~^~

“It’s getting worse,” the doctor remarked, watching the Soldier fight in the chair.

“It has been since their separation, God knows why,” the other doctor replied.

Melanie Weber and Adrian Fischer were the main doctors assigned to the Winter Soldier. They were in charge of his mental state and worked closely with his trainers who kept him physical capable for missions.

“The sub-conscious mind is strange,” Fuchs commented, startling the two doctors.

They hummed their assent wondering what he was going to do next.

The Commander had been faring worse on his resets and everyone in the base knew it was putting him on edge. The past six months there had been at least eight resets and three of those had been full wipes.

The Soldier had been better, only requiring two resets and one wipe, but it was still more than they had had to do in a long time.

“I wonder…” Fuchs murmured, trailing off looking lost in thought.

“The Commander and the Soldier had been working together up until six months ago, could that have a connection to the relapses?” Fuchs asked.

The two doctors frowned and looked down at the Winter Soldier who was staring blankly ahead and listening to the nurses and agents on the floor.

“It’s a possibility, but a small one,” Adrian said, with a look of doubt on his face.

“I can’t honestly say it wouldn’t have some affect. The way we trained them made them used to consistency and habits, if they had been around each other long enough they could have become dependent on the other’s presence so much so that it affects them this way. But we just don’t know enough yet,” Melanie conceded.

“They knew each other before this. According to our files and knowledge they knew each other for their whole lives,” Fuchs replied.

“Define ‘knew’.”

“Does that really matter?”

“It could.”

“We don’t know. You know how it is. They could have just been friends or they could have been more. It’s was damn 40’s in the army, anything could have been happening out there.”

The doctors looked at each other in surprise. They were fairly young, born at the tail end of the war with no real memory before 1947 neither had ever addressed the idea of homosexual men and women because it never came up, so the idea that someone nearly twenty-five years their senior was so blasé about homosexuality and the prospect of the assets being homosexual was a surprise.

“Mr. Fuchs, do you believe they were involved?” Melanie asked softly.

“Involved? Unlikely. Pining? Attracted? I think so. It was uncommon and it’s not as if people like that don’t exist,” Fuchs replied, watching the Winter Soldier.

“So what? Keeping them apart because of that is the reason for all this?” Adrian asked, his tone harsh.

Melanie and Ardal seemed to think so and it bothered Adrian. He was convinced that there was a more logical explanation to the relapses the assets were experiencing, the idea that _affection_ controlled the two so completely was ridiculous to him.

“It’s not completely insane to think that,” Melanie agreed.

Adrian scoffed and they both ignored them.

“We should run a few tests. Keep them together for a few days and then split them apart for a week or so. Then ramp up their time together from there and see what happens,” Melanie suggested.

“Really? You think that bullshit will fix this? True love’s kiss won’t solve this clearly scientific issue. We should increase the procedure to immersive wipes. That would keep from muscle memory triggering a relapse,” Adrian snapped.

“Mr. Fischer, do you truly believe something as basic as _muscle memory_ would be the cause of these men remembering each other’s names before their own?” Fuchs asked calmly.

“The Commander said his name? Without prompt? Before his own?” Adrian asked.

“Yes and so did the Soldier, if you remember him screaming ‘Steve’ when we brought him in earlier,” Melanie replied softly.

“Jesus…”

“Let us get started.”

~^~

“Stop messing around, Buck,” Steve said, pushing Bucky off the couch.

“What? You don’t want some practice for when you get a dame,” Bucky teased.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not a ‘dame’.”

“But I got lips, darling,” Bucky drawled, puckering them exaggeratedly.

Steve laughed and threw a pillow at him, trying to hiding the blush that was no doubt easy to spot on his sunken and pale cheeks.

“I ain’t getting any dames anytime soon,” Steve said.

“And why is that?” Bucky asked, swatting the pillow away.

“Don’t try and kid yourself or me, Buck. I’m not much too look at and that’s everything isn’t it?”

Bucky frowned and pulled himself onto the couch next to his friend.

“Stevie, you’re the kindest and bravest man I know. That sure as hell is more important than broad shoulders.”

Steve bit his lip and looked away. That was rich coming from Bucky. He had it all and there was no denying it. Steve wasn’t blind and he definitely wasn’t an idiot.

“Coming from you that don’t mean much,” Steve muttered.

Bucky’s face screwed up as if he had bitten into a lemon and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Come on. You’re kind and brave and you even got those broad shoulders. Three out of three is better than two out of three.”

“Why are you comparing yourself to me?” Bucky asked, leaning in to look Steve in the eye. “Because that’s fairly stupid. We’re different people.”

“No kiddin’.”

“No, Steve. Listen to me,” Bucky commanded his voice going low as he grabbed Steve’s shoulders, albeit gently, and looked him straight in the eye inches from Steve’s face.

“I’m listening,” Steve snapped, getting irritated with Bucky’s insistence on the topic.

“Any gal would be lucky to have you. Just because you aren’t the typical man or what have you, doesn’t mean that you out of the game. You’re loyal, kind, brave, reckless as all hell, but you’re a good man and that’s what is important. Got it?” Bucky said, his hands had slowly slid down Steve’s arms until he held the smaller man’s wrists lightly, his thumbs gently brushing the pulse points.

Steve swallowed heavily and Bucky’s eyes flickered down, before flashing back up with a forced grin on his face.

“You sure you don’t want to get some practice in? After being a good man, you’d better be a good kisser,” Bucky joked, but his eyes still held a hint of severity in them.

“Oh shut up,” Steve groaned, shoving the other man away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think because this is kind of all over the place and I don’t really know what I’m doing.


End file.
